Disobedience
by GPR
Summary: It's scary, how one day you look on someone with fresh eyes, and you realise that person is very much a woman, and an incredibly attractive one at that. Becker/Jess.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm not really sure if this is even any good- probably not, I've not written a Primeval fic in some time, and for those who've read my stories that I just... stopped writing... I'm sooooo sorry, though I know **I won't carry on Back Up** as I reread everything I wrote and just looked at it for some time and went, "What the hell..." and was completely lost as to what I was intending to happen in the end. However,** I think I might start rewriting Missing Until Twisted** because I actually wrote out a decipherable plan I found the other day... and I just love the plot. Regardless, I haven't seen all of series 4 but I thought Becker and Jess were quite cute so I had an urge to write them :) Enjoy and review!

PS, might carry it on.

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**Disobedience**

Becker ached all over, head to toe, so much so he felt like his body no longer worked- even his heart was struggling to keep beating. Sliding into an unoccupied chair in the corner of the locker room, he ran a hand over his face and through his hair, longing for a good night's sleep.

The ARC was strangely quite now, seeing as it was steadily growing later and the sunlight outside had long since faded, but still, to him, it was somewhat unnerving. Manning the ARC felt like a full time job, and so it was almost laughable that everyone who worked there went home, on average, at eight o'clock, and actually _slept_. The only person who seemed to be on call 24/7 was Jess; he knew she had her phone wired up to the ADD, should, heaven forbid, an anomaly open whilst they were all tucked up in bed.

Jessica. Her name flashing through his mind forced him to exhale in a mixture of relief and frustration. The girl was stubborn, and too damn impressionable that it actually scared him, because that was the point, she was just a _girl_. Nineteen, he recalled, she was only nineteen and he had led her straight into the path of danger.

The terror on her face as she'd uncovered that bomb was still etched into his eyelids, like they'd been seared there by a hot poker, never to be removed. He'd be dead if she hadn't have stayed, if she hadn't been so bloody stubborn; and yet, all he thought about in those brief few seconds it took for him to realise she had unwittingly stumbled into that situation, was how he'd rather have himself die than her. He knew, unwillingly, that deep down it wasn't just because they were his orders. It was because of that face, so filled with innocence and the promise of life. Its subtle prettiness which carved the supple skin and flesh around the bone had captivated him momentarily- and for a second, he saw the essence of youth and beauty right there, and it had tugged vehemently on his heart. Such horror reflected in such young eyes, eyes that shouldn't have to witness such things, not yet, and he could do nothing, for if he moved, those eyes- that prettiness- would be gone.

The sweet smell of her still lingered on his clothes, mingled with the harsh essence of stale sweat and fading deodorant. He needed a shower, to feel clean once again, to rid his body of the dirt and grime, to release the knots which had formed in his muscles…

Becker made his way over to the showers situated in the decontamination unit, towards the front of the ARC, without seeing so much as a soul. Stripping down completely in front of one of the showers, he stretched a few of his muscles, wincing slightly and hearing the never ending cracking of his tired bones.

He moaned at the heat of the water pelting down on him, and for the entire time he was scrubbing the skin of his body red raw, he felt like he was in heaven.

"Hello?"

Freezing, Becker, just tall enough to see over the cubicle, laid eyes on the owner of the voice, "Jess? What are you doing here?"

Her eyes went wide as they fell on him, her gaze lowering considerably to where she could see his exposed legs at the bottom of the cubicle, as her cheeks violently flushed. Though clearly embarrassed, he could see her unwillingness to look away, and something, stirred inside him.

"I er… was kind of… staying late," she mumbled, her usually pale cheeks now blazing with blood, "I had some… work to do…"

As he stared at her, thin, slight tendrils falling across her face, he felt irrationally terrified as a feeling of once unfelt arousal smouldered away at him. Turning the shower head off, he remained there, staring at the wall and trying to clear his mind.

"Becker?"

Obviously it wasn't working.

"You should have… left," he sighed heavily, trying to calm himself as he could hear his own voice falter. Wrapping the towel he had slung over the side of the cubicle around his waist, he emerged under the fully scrutiny of her inexperienced eyes.

"I…" Jess tailed off, her fresh eyes flickering to the expanse of exposed flesh as her ears began to redden as well as her cheeks, "I… I couldn't just leave you there."

Dripping wet, Becker moved towards her, quite aware of the affect he was having on her, and was a little scared by it. She was _young_, a lot younger than him that was for sure. It was probably outside the norms of society to have conflicting feelings for… a colleague, one who was also seven years your junior. Regardless, he was a SAS soldier, a captain, and he shouldn't be having such… feelings for someone who, though younger than him, was technically his boss, even if she herself reported to Matt. Yet, by some means, that just made him want Jess even more.

"Why?" He murmured, his dark brown eyes, softer than they had ever been before, caught hers in a gaze, "I gave you a direct order and you disobeyed."

"I couldn't just watch you die," she retorted, and he heard the slight edge of frustration there, "I couldn't just stand there, helpless and stupidly looking on whilst… whilst you were _dying_."

Jess looked away, hurt and embarrassed, ashamed that he was pulling information out of her, bit by bit. It was hard enough not to look at him- soaked, invitingly warm and temptingly _naked_.

"People die in this job, it's inevitable," there was a hint of hurt and regret in his words, and yet, in someway, his bluntness stung her.

Jess forced the ghost of a smile to linger briefly on her lips, before it faded and died, leaving behind nothing but a vacant, if anything, wounded expression, "People only die if they give up easily… and I'm not letting you do that, Becker."

He had an overwhelming urge to roughly drag her into his arms and kiss her passionately; just by watching those delicately pink lips move as she talked. Restraining himself, he sighed heavily, turning away from her as his voice became serenely low, "You had no right to just… stay. If I give you a direct order, Jessica, I expect you to follow it, do you hear me? I will _not_ lose another person."

She paused, a slight frown adorning her face as she absorbed his words, "I'm not a child, Becker, I can take care of myself."

That was the first time he'd heard her talk so coldly, with complete conviction, that it took him by surprise, and he simply looked over at her, a loss for words, "I never said-"

"But you think that don't you?" she snapped, suddenly irate with his calm façade. She was well aware of her position within the team- she simply managed them, and it felt pretty damn clear to her that all of them, even Abby to a certain degree, believed her place was sitting cosy in the ARC whilst they all put their necks on the line, "You think I can't handle anything, I'm just this… pen pusher who doesn't seem to notice the sheer gravity of the situation, well you know what, Hilary? I've had it, because I damn well know what you lot risk for this job, and yes, maybe it was a little too chivalrous of me to just waltz in a save you bloody life, but I frigging did it because I'm not a _child_."

Becker stared at her, a little disbelieving that she had addressed him by his first name, and allowed her words to wash over him.

Silence followed, as if it had the audacity to taunt them at such a moment, before he thought it best to hastily chase it away, "You're young, Jess-"

The heated flush rose in her cheeks again, and for a moment, he was enraptured, "Young, yes, but I'm a _woman_ Becker."

The word woman rung about in his head as his eyes lingered on hers briefly, registering her words, realising that they oddly made sense. In brutal truth, she was right; she had legally been a woman and _not_ a girl for a year, and yet still his tormented mind was sounding off warning sirens as he felt the familiar burning in his loins.

"I'm a bloody _adult_," she breathed, "and I know you want to protect me more than the rest because I'm so much younger than them, but I'm an adult, I make my own mistakes. You can't reprimand me, or implement rules you don't give to anyone else."

"I know," he croaked, now unable to meet her eyes.

"Then… why treat me differently?"

His dark eyes met fell on the snowy curve of her neck, hesitating briefly before they inched up to her rose cheeks, she was so… pristine and perfect, it made his heart jolt with unease, to be so close to… temptation. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed heavily, deciding it was better out in the open than this… awkwardness that had formed between them.

"There are exceptions when-"

"When what?" Jess's eyes, so filled with expectation and disappointment, met his, and it was all he could do to keep staring back.

"When your feelings are compromised." Becker blurted, realising his chest was heaving with the effort of trying to remain calm and controlled. Her eyes widened in momentary comprehension, and she stood, shocked, staring at him, unmoving, as though she'd just witnessed something truly scandalous.

She didn't even stop him from leaving when he gathered all his clothes and exited the room without so much as a sound. She merely stood there, still trying to grasp the meaning of his words.

All that Becker could think of now, was how stupid it was of him to let his feelings get the better of him, considering that she clearly didn't feel the same way.

Bitterly, he dressed himself in fresh clothes from his locker, and made a bid to leave.

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Reviews would be nice :)

GPR


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Ah, thanks for the reviews! Made my day :) If any of you like **Jenny/Cutter fics**, please check out my other stories, especially **Soulmate** and **Missing Until Twisted**, you'd like them :)

Anyway, the second chapter awaits...

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Though trying to lose himself in the never ending flow of thoughts that flooded through his numbed mind, Becker couldn't shake the look of shock that had plastered Jess's face from his memory. It stayed there, stuck fast in the forefront of his mind as though someone had cruelly taken a marker pen to the image in his head, impossible to remove.

Frown adorning his darkened features, he slung the black rucksack over his right shoulder as he marched across the car park, aiming for his pick up truck. He'd never really gotten the hang of women, especially when he was younger; he found most of those he'd dated to be irate creatures that were so superficial and wrapped up in their little make up bags that they barely noticed anything going on around them. After some, rather somewhat misled and unfair assumptions on the other sex, Becker had eradicated all thoughts of dating and relationships from his mind. He was not a patient man who would idly dwindle around in hopes some dependant, clingy woman would be enamoured enough by him to consent to be his wife and bear him children. Though, up to the point of joining the ARC, Becker had failed to meet a _real_ woman, one who could give him a run for his money and be so headstrong and opinionated he began to see her as an equal. It was hardly surprising, though, considering the only time he'd only ever had to meet women until the ARC came along was bars after training. Women in bars tended not to be the best representation for their sex.

So, after a sudden slap in the face by being drafted into the ARC, Becker had met two headstrong and obstinate women almost immediately- Jenny Lewis and Abby Maitland, both of whom could stand their own ground in an argument and actually got things _done_, something some men on the team failed to do entirely. At first it'd been a bit shocking to bash heads with two very opinionated women, but as he grew accustomed to their ways, he couldn't help but admire them greatly. After Sarah joined, who was somewhat of a more… subtle nature, Becker had found himself liking female company to an extent he had thought impossible; and, if anything, he had more arguments and clashes with the other males, the women seemed to contentedly just… let him be.

It was with a great resignation upon his part that he finally admitted to himself he was attracted to strong, independent, intelligent women who weren't afraid to kick a guy in the balls- hard. Though… he was merely being metaphorical, he was pretty sure if Jess kneed him in that area he wouldn't want to go anywhere near her for a few days, not that she would though…

Sighing heavily as he flung the rucksack into the bed of the pick up truck, Becker's mind fixated on Jess and her little outburst in the decontamination area. He knew, though he hated to admit it, he'd found Jenny Lewis an attractive and challenging woman he couldn't quite get his head round. His attraction to her, though nothing sexual, was somewhat unnerving for him as it'd been the first time he'd actually noticed that, standing just across a table from him, was a woman who exuded authority and sexuality. Unsurprisingly, the knowledge that a woman could possess such a thing had aroused him deeply, and from that point on, Becker knew intelligence and strength was all a woman needed to make him do a double take. What he could never quite understand, however, was why Cutter constantly bickered with Jenny, there had been clear sexual tension between the two, but neither seemed willing to act upon it. It was more of a will they, won't they, oops he's dead kind of thing, he thought bitterly.

Meeting Jess for the first time, when it'd been just the two of them, Becker had felt those feelings of deep curiosity and arousal rise inside him once again. Though significantly younger than any other woman who had been employed by the ARC, Jessica Parker, who came across as a sweet girl, had an endless array of intelligence and mischievous playfulness that enraptured him, much to his own surprise. It was the occasional impish glint in her eye when teasing that made her so sexually interesting to him. And he hated himself for it, because she was so damn young.

Jess wasn't entirely like the new breed of woman the ARC had exposed him to, though opinionated, she was calmer and more diplomatic than both Abby and Jenny had been. Her outburst today merely proved to him she was more than capable of being independent and standing up for herself, however much he tried to protect her.

It was her lone voice, ringing out across the car park which made him turn at the last second, his eyes transfixed upon the silhouette illuminated by the flood lights of the ARC. She simply said his name.

Her footsteps were slow, deliberate, as if somewhat wary of him as she began her descending approached, heeled feet clicking rhythmically against the tarmac, "What did you mean, Becker, back there?"

She'd finally reached him, eyes narrowed ever so slightly as they scrutinised him, her face, beautifully curved like the carvings of an alabaster statue, peered questioningly up at his, her breath delicate and soft against the warmth of his cheek.

He turned away, unable to look at her, his face darkening, which merely conveyed to her something she didn't wish to know- that he was taking back he'd ashamedly declared to her.

Jess knew her parents would be seemingly shocked if she ever revealed her affections for a man seven years her senior, it wasn't exactly the age of man you had in mind when your nineteen year old daughter announced she was seeing someone. In fact, you'd automatically assume it was some boy, not a _man_, not a strong, dark featured man who worked for the _SAS_.

"Becker?"

"Go home, Jess," he muttered dangerously, scowl forming, "Forget about it."

He turned back to his car, flinging the door open when a hand, quite an unexpectedly strong one, swung him round, to face a disbelieving Jess, "No I will not! Do you know how long I've wanted to hear those words from you?"

Becker stared at her in dumb shock, "You…"

"Haven't you…" she faltered, her breath suddenly hitching in her throat as it became increasingly difficult to admit to something she'd only ever admitted in her head, to herself, "Haven't you noticed how… how worried I get about you?"

_No, not particularly_, he thought with regret, he was, after all, too busy making sure _she_ was okay.

"I care about you Becker, more than anyone else in the team," suddenly it was so much easier to say, if avoided the words "like", "love" and anything within that lexis, "and for once, just this once, you've actually told me how you feel- that you care about me in the same way. I don't want to see you hurt, Becker, I know you feel the same."

"We're friends Jess-" he tried to amend, but he knew the damage was done, if she did really care about him the way she was describing, he'd just implanted a tiny little seed of hope, that could possibly grow into something more.

He was _not_ going to get involved with a work colleague, he was _not_. Whoever made up that crap about "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" was spewing out utter crap, if these feelings- feelings of affection and sexual attraction continued between them, what would happen if something happened to either of them? It was too dangerous, too complicated, and far outside social normality. He should _not_ be having feelings for a female colleague who still had the fresh face of youth, he should _not_.

He felt like kicking something.

"I'm not saying we're anything more than friends Becker!"

"You just said you cared about me!" he cried, frustration clearly evident.

Jess, face darkened, gazed at him with a furious embarrassment that he too felt, "Yes, I care about you, I care about you more than anyone else here, but it doesn't mean I suddenly have to act upon it!"

He'd never quite seen her like this, evidently there were mixed emotions going through her mind, as her cheeks flushed their familiar red with mortification and yet her eyes, her eyes held such a heated irritation she was practically glaring at him- something she'd never done before.

Jess didn't quite know what to think, all she knew was how stupid she thought he was, how idiotic could he possibly be? Her sudden outbursts and undeniable anger were scaring her a little bit- she seriously wanted to smack him one around the head, just to knock some bloody sense into him!

"You wouldn't act upon it?" he whispered softly, his eyes filling with an emotion she couldn't quite place.

Suddenly she was lost for words, and just stood there, mouth slightly agape as she searched for something to say, the heat flooding her cheeks even more violently now, "I… I… why would I?"

Becker inched forwards ever so slowly, so his eyes were gazing straight into the depths of hers, his warm, slight breath grazing the skin of her cheek, unsure of what was overcoming him. Unable to resist, succumbing to the inevitable temptation, he lingered, his lips inches from hers, regarding her freeze- eyes wide and watching, "I know why I would."

There was something which felt terribly sinful about the close proximity to which he was to her, a woman who had only fully entered womanhood two years ago, adulthood barely one- and yet, as he felt his jeans tighten significantly, he couldn't pull himself away.

"W-why would you…" she trailed off, eyes still searching his, realising the conversation was no longer under her control. Neither was her pounding heart as it thrust itself against her ribcage with each shuddering pump.

Jess wasn't a virgin, and she wasn't naïve and stupid, and she certainly wasn't a child, but she _was_ inexperienced; and there, barely an inch from her, stood a man with far superior intimate experiences than her. He was showing an interest in her that thrilled her, terrified her, tormented her. Becker had a wealth of experience that would open her eyes up to the reality of being a woman, experience that neither of her two previous lovers could have given her.

With stark realisation, Becker came to his senses and tore vehemently away from her, shooting a pleading look over his shoulder as he clambered into his vehicle. He paused momentarily, and then started the engine, thrusting the car into gear, and slowly driving away.

In his rear view mirror, he saw her still standing there, where he'd left her, expressionless.

He was sure everyone had felt the sexual tension between them already; and Becker knew, with an ounce of dread, that tomorrow there were going to be many uneasy glances between the others.

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Reviews, reviews, reviews! Every writer loves and needs them!

GPR


	3. Chapter 3

Henry Otac is my character completely and utterly- though I own nothing else :(

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She was a free woman- free to do as she liked, free to go where ever the damn bloody well she liked. Screw Becker and his hard to get attitude, and his muscles, and his body, and his guns, and his unwitting ruddy SAS "man of your fantasies in a uniform" bravado.

Men.

Slamming her car door shut with a little bit too much enthusiasm, she lay her head on the curve of the steering wheel, eyes closed, breathing ragged. She felt like crying. He knew he she liked him, and she was almost certain now, if she hadn't been before, that Becker was very much harboring similar feelings for her. So what was wrong? What was possibly holding him back from throwing her roughly up against a wall and having his damned way with her? Nothing- absolutely nothing.

Taking a deep, soothing breath that racked her lungs momentarily, Jess straightened up, her eyes flickering open and gazing at the expanse of darkness ahead of her. The keys were in the ignition and the engine was on before she could even register what she was doing. Reversing out of her space, she swung the car around and through the car park gates, forcing her usually cheery wave out the window to the office manning the gate. As always, he smiled and waved back.

She wasn't quite sure where she was going, but it definitely wasn't home. Driving around for a good thirty or more minutes, she found herself a little outside the centre of London, in a quaint, upper class looking area she'd never ventured into before. She came across a hotel front, one with beautiful amber lights that beckoned her with its warmth embrace.

She parked her car on a spur of the moment type instant, knowing she wouldn't be doing this normally, but she was angry, angry a little humiliated to be honest. Though, at least she hadn't revealed the full extent of her feelings for him- she doubted, that if that was the way he'd reacted to her "caring more for him than the others", that he'd really appreciated the graphic images of her subconscious mind, ones where the words rough and passionate just didn't do them justice.

Keys in hand, Jess locked the vehicle, gazing up at the hotel, which exuded an inviting ambiance through its soft lights and, as far as she could tell through the window, deep burgundy carpets. She pushed the door open, hesitant, before making her way across the main foyer, towards the open planned area with a bar.

It was cosy, and as she stared at the dark wood tables and chairs that inhabited the place, she couldn't help but feel that it was somewhat homely, yet... elegant at the same time.

There were a few other people milling about the bar, and the gentle murmurings of words that floated in the warm air filled her ears with their lulling melodies. Contented, she settled onto one of the stools at the bar, and was a little a taken aback when the barman- quite young and finely dresses in a white shirt, black tie and black waistcoat- promtly came to her.

"Can I get you anything ma'am?" He said, light hair slicked back neatly, eyes soft as he smiled slightly.

"Er... a glass of port, please?" She managed to utter back, without mangling her words.

"Of course, ma'am." He sauntered away, and she watched his back, mind wondering to what perhaps he was like- as a person, as someone she could get to know...

It was an understated, sweet smell that filled her her nostrils before she actually saw the owner of the essence. He sat down heavily next to her, not noticing her presence as he flagged down the barman- returning with her port- and ordered a glass of Chardonnay.

The dark tresses of his thick hair curved loosely, though his hair was too short to merit curls, and the smattering of shortish, dark, ordered stubble adorned his soft cheeks, chin and upper lip. Unwittingly, she noticed half his left earlobe was missing- though it looked like it had never formed in the womb, rather than having lost it in some accident.

Her curious eyes, suddenly alight with interest, fell on the journal he'd laid open on the table, and her mouth fell open.

"Henry Otac?" She breathed, not quite believing it.

He turned at the mention of his name, his handsome eyes- a concoction of brown and green- fell on hers, and small smile crossing his lips, "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"Oh gosh..." Jess murmured, a blush rising in her cheeks, "No, sorry, I'm Jessica Parker, I've read your books, I love them, especially Morsus... it was... beautifully written."

She held out a hand, and as he took it in his, she couldn't help but grin benignly at him.

"I have to say, Miss Parker, you are the first person who has recognised me so far," Henry chuckled, the corners of his eyes creasing slightly, and she found herself captivated by him, "Though, I'm not very well known, so I can't complain."

She took a small sip from her glass as his chardonnay arrived, "Admittedly my friend, she's doing her Bachelors in English, introduced me to your work, I hadn't heard of you before then."

"Good to know someone's reading my books- I need money to live," he shifted in his chair, until he was facing her completely, "Seeing as you already know about me, what about you?"

What was happening here? A blush rose in Jess's cheeks, she wasn't like this, she didn't just go out to bars and meet authors and start striking up conversations, she was usually too engrossed with her thoughts of Becker...

Screw Becker.

Taking another sip, she leant forward towards him, "There's not much to know."

_Except I work for a secret government department that specialises in "time management" and "pest control", _she mused.

"I'm sure you do something interesting for a living?" His sincere interest in her made her beam, and somehow, she felt a little better than she had before.

"Oh... I merely work in the civil service, nothing too important."

An hour later and she found his company intoxicating. He was so... welcoming, genuine and an utter gentleman that he put Becker's earlier actions that night to shame.

When he asked for her phone number, Jess gave it without a second thought. It wasn't like Becker was going to act on his feelings for her, so why should she sit around feeling so morose and down trodden because he simply wouldn't allow their relationship to progress beyond friends?

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Reviews are nice :)

GPR


	4. Chapter 4

Becker threw down the keys onto the hall table in frustration, sighing indignantly before he gazed around the open planned lounge-dinner, scanning for the only other inhabitant of his home. He failed to see her creep up, slipping out of the shadows like a ghost, the pads of her paws silent against the carpet of the bedroom, before she trotted across the kitchen tiles. With a smile, he heard the familiar clicking of her claws against the flooring as she made her way over to him, ears erect, head cocked curiously, and blue eyes as inquisitive as ever.

He greeted her with a tender hand upon the dome of her head, his fingers threading through the thick, downy crown of mane-like hair as her rough tongue licked the fingers of his other hand, sensing her master's agitation.

"Hey Morley," he greeted affectionately, even though his voice was deeply laced with melancholy, as his fingers gently stroked the side of her muzzle comfortingly. The German Sheppard-wolf cross merely whimpered in reply, rubbing her pate on the outside of his thigh, "Dinner?"

He didn't much fancy the hard, spherical pieces that tumbled from the dog food bag into Morley's bowl, sounding like hailstones thrown mercilessly against a window pane, but she seemed to enjoy them anyhow. Why she even ate them, he didn't know.

Leaving her to her fine cuisine, he slumped onto the sofa, wondering if it was even worth putting the TV on. Probably not- there was all this rubbish on nowadays, so much so Becker had almost given up on the damn thing. He than began to wonder if he should even pay his TV licence this year; only to be bombarded with garbage like _Trisha_, and brainwashed by the adverts that threatened to either burn a whole in your wallet, or bring on an onslaught of epilepsy you never knew you were capable of. The original London 2012 Olympics logo was a shining example of something which caused an influx of epilepsy sufferers.

Morley broke his reverie as she hauled herself up onto the sofa beside him, dropping heavily onto her belly, her head in his lap. Though still not quite a fully grown bitch, she wasn't really a puppy anymore, and the sofa sagged with her new found weight.

Stroking her ears, he settled back into the soft recesses of the couch, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

"Am I being stupid?"

He was surprised to hear himself speaking aloud, he'd meant to keep that to himself.

Raising her head at his words, her subtle eyebrows raised in that typical surprised look some dogs had, and she gazed at him meaningfully, as though she were merely saying, _"And you've only just realised this?"_

"Shut up," he muttered. He often spoke to her; she was like his substitute family- a baby he could dote on because he'd long since given up on the idea of a wife and children. Though, at the moment, she was going through "that teenage attitude" phase, where she dared to question him and become disobedient. Last week, the pristine, white linen sheets, covered in muddy paw prints was the straw that broke the camel's back. He'd told her _no_, and she'd given him _that_ look, the one which says, "_Should I? Shouldn't I? What the hell, yes!_" before she rolled in the neatly stacked, washed linen.

He'd given up at that point. She was, after all, only partly tamed. It was an odd way in which he'd acquired Morley; the wife of a friend he'd met whilst training had been raising a wolf cub in the small confines of her house, something to do with her being a zoo keeper, and after reintroducing it to the pack, she'd found out her German Sheppard was carrying pups. They'd contacted Becker, wondering if he was interested in taking one off their hands.

He'd initially agreed to just_ look_ at the pups, unsure as to whether it was a good idea or not. She'd been the fluffiest, the one with big, adorable eyes that pierced his heart, the one with a snowy, downy pelt, the one who fitted perfectly into the palm of his hand. Becker still hadn't quite figured out how he'd fallen in love with her within the space of a few seconds, but he'd said he'd take her off his friend's hands without a second thought.

So there she sat, scorning him for not doing the right thing, for not picking Jess like he'd picked her. Sighing, he ruffled the fur at her neck, "What should I do?"

He was met with a small growl as she placed her head back on her forepaws.

"Besides me being a jerk, are you going to offer anymore advice, or should I just quit while I'm ahead?"

An indignant snort. He took it to mean no more help from her.

Dogs.

Women.

Unbelievable.

X

Her eyes, incredibly, beautifully wide, stared up into his with genuine shock, and the first few sounds that escaped those unknowingly lascivious lips of hers were mangled. Faltering momentarily, the blush rising up underneath the supple skin of her cheeks, she struggled to find the right thing to say, whilst oh so flustered!

His lone finger trailed the high arch of her cheek bone, causing her eyes to only widen further, and her breathing to cease all together. He desperately wanted to kiss her, kiss her like she deserved to be kissed. He wanted to protect her from harm, because he owed her that, not simply because it was his job. He wanted something similar to normality, he wanted to shower her in affection and take her on picnics... and hug her and smell her, take her to restaurants and lie under the black canvas of sky, pinpricked with stars, and most of all, he wanted to _love_ her.

Becker awoke the moment his lips brushed against Jess's, and the feeling of reality lifted. He wanted to drift back off, lose himself in the soft, warm embrace of her arms that were always open to him- free of shame of breaking social conventions- in his subconscious. Yet he had already opened his eyes, and as he shifted to his side, and attempted to shut them tight, he found it was too late. The dream was gone, and so had his hope of sleep.

Traipsing from the bedroom, he yawned, running a hand over his face and then through his hair as he headed to the kettle. He needed coffee, decaff admittedly, but he needed one. He needed a think, a rearrangement of his priorities and what really meant what to him.

As he made his drink, he spied Morley, curled nose to tail in the typical sleeping position adopted by foxes and wolves, in her basket, and thought about it. He'd been reluctant to have a dog before, but after seeing her, after holding her tiny, heavy, sweaty little frame in the palm of his hand, he knew he loved her, and he'd thrown all his previous beliefs away.

A dog wasn't so bad, in fact, so far, it had been one of the best decisions he'd made in his life (excluding joining the SAS and the ARC). She eased the constant loneliness he'd once felt, coming back to this empty flat. She'd been something to love to pieces and distract him whilst Abby, Connor and Danny were missing, when Sarah died... he had really needed her then, because that had felt like all his fault, and if it hadn't been for her reassuring licks, and being able to clutch something _living_ to his body, he might have broken down... gone insane.

It begged the question, what if he allowed Jess into his life? Sure there was the chance of losing her, of her losing him, but with the new rules and regulations implemented in the ARC, wasn't she the one with one of the safest jobs? If he let her close... then maybe he could be happy, to the extent where he'd look back on this precise moment and wonder how on earth he'd considered himself content, as he hadn't had her then?

Becker sat at his kitchen table, staring into the darkness as if it would somehow miraculously reveal the answer to him. Letting his mind lose, allowing it free range and to think of the instinctual thing to do, he felt like he was on the verge of an emotional breakthrough.

He would take it slow, he would allow her to make the decisions, the moves- he'd merely give her the incentives and subtle suggestions. No, he wasn't going to hide behind the facade of social conventions, he was going to screw it, let it all go to pot.

He fucking loved the woman.

_Wow, how about that for an epiphany_, he thought, dumbstruck.

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**A/N: **Not quite sure what possessed me to create Morley, I felt Becker needed a feminine (if somewhat canine) influence, and just a female in his life, as I think he probably wouldn't be too close to his mother. So, hence Morley popped into my head. I usually use Silas, the fat, anti-social, albino cat once owned by Nick, who managed to manifest himself in several of my fics as Nick's, then Claudia's, then Jenny's cat. Though, for obvious reasons (Silas is male, and Becker doesn't strike me as a cat person), he wasn't quite used.

Anyway, reviews would be nice? Thanks for reading!

GPR


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Important note! **There's a **poll on my profile page so you can vote for what happens next in the story!** Only you don't know exactly what you're voting for (either way it's a good outcome), but if you want a clue: what are the connotations of each colour? That's all I'm saying!

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Jess squealed loudly as she pushed her front door open- only to come face to face with a similarly shocked Connor. Clutching her heart as she doubled over slightly, trying to regain her breath as well as her composure, she shot a glare in his direction, "What are you doing up at this hour, scaring people?"

Connor, his face mystified, struggled to find the right words to say as she closed the door to, before walking into the lounge.

"Honestly, I'm nineteen; I don't need someone to sit up all night waiting for me." She grumbled, slightly irate at the thought of him assuming the "protective father" role. Slipping the heels from her feet, Jess sighed in relief as she flopped onto the sofa, sinking into the soft folds that attempted to swallow her whole.

"I wasn't…" she surprised to see Connor standing there, still a like taken aback by her, a shocked, lost expression adorning his face, "…It's just that Becker called, he said to get you to call him back as soon as you got in. I didn't know you'd be back _this_ late."

He stifled an unwilling yawn, as if emphasising his point, and she noticed his eyes were a little bloodshot, "Um… thanks Connor. Is Abby asleep?"

He merely nodded in way of reply, "Are you gonna call him back?"

"No." She replied curtly, turning her back to him. It didn't help that Becker consumed her thoughts entirely, and it was incredibly tempting to call him, but the fact remained that he had a severe problem with emotional retardation. The man was an imbecile- if he thought he could lure her that close before abruptly pulling away, and then calling thinking it was all hunky dory was alright, he had another bloody thing coming.

"Only he made it sound really urgent," Connor blurted. He cringed at the intensity of her gaze, backing away steadily, "But clearly it's none of my business. I'll be off to bed."

Hearing the door close behind him, Jess settled back down, immersed in her thoughts- which were cut relatively short by the sound of her phone beeping. The involuntary smile spread across her lips as she pulled it from her cardigan pocket, staring at it excitedly.

_Here's my number should you need it, Henry._

It was platonic, of course it was- Henry was, after all, an utter gentleman. She remembered the softness of his eyes, the humour laced into his words, the whole demeanour that screamed, "I'm the perfect man to date!" He was beautiful- he had that ordered roguishness the majority of women swooned at, the subtle charm that electrified any woman to the point where he unknowingly reduced them to a giggling, childish mess.

And yet Becker still weighed heavily on her mind. She couldn't place why- she just knew he was there, stalking around in her mind all enigmatic and macho, macho man-ish, a scowl constantly furrowing his brow in that mystifyingly sexy way.

She felt like slapping herself. She didn't have to put up with his unnecessary teasing or lead ons, even if they inexplicably turned her on, but that was the point: she didn't _want _sexual tension; she wanted a relationship- was that so damn hard to ask?

Clearly it was. Sighing heavily, Jess stared back down at the phone screen, tapping out a quick text.

_Thanks, free anytime this week? Jess._

The reply wasn't too quick, and yet wasn't too slow- the perfect indication that he was neither desperate nor semi-interested. It was a good sign, perhaps she could get to know him well enough and see where it led from there?

_Being a writer means I have too much free time, fortunately. How about Saturday? Sushi to your liking?_

Smiling slightly, she text back that she was indeed free on Saturday, and loved sushi. There was nothing trite about him like the other men she'd previously dated, no default kisses that they probably put on every text, no smiley icons (he was probably a little too old for that kind of thing anyway), they were just simple, genuine responses that showed honest interest in her.

Picking her heels off the floor, she sauntered over towards her bedroom, when the home phone rang.

"Becker?" The astonishment was apparent in her voice as she cradled the phone to her ear.

"I need to talk to you, Jessica," his tone was uncommonly soft, as though he were murmuring it to her, as though he stood right there, beside her, "Please?"

That was something he hardly ever said, so much so she'd often believed he'd never heard of the word sorry. A little wary, Jess paused, contemplating what he'd said.

"Now's not really a good time, Becker, it's late."

She could tell he'd picked up on her forced civility. With a deep sigh, he briefly paused, "Okay. See you, I guess."

He'd hung up before she'd gotten the chance to respond. Vaguely irate, she briskly shoved the phone back onto its cradle, before disappearing into the sanctuary of her _céleste chambre_.

X

"Jess was back late," Abby muttered from underneath the duvet that enveloped her in its feathery embrace, "Did she say where she'd been?"

Slipping the t-shirt over his head, Connor sighed heavily, "Nope. Just had a bit of a tantrum and that's when I left."

"Did you tell her Becker called?"

He rolled his eyes, sliding under the bedding until he lay beside her, brushing a few of the wild tendrils from her face as her eyes flickered closed with exhaustion, "Hmmm… she didn't take it too well, considering I thought she had a bit of a crush on him."

The phone rang, and Abby moaned quietly, yanking the sheets further up to her chin, as if it would miraculously drown out the noise. They barely heard anything Jess said to the caller, but judging by the tone, she wasn't in the least bit amused.

Neither was Abby, if she was honest, it had just gone past midnight and she felt crap. Since coming back to the present day, it'd been hard for both of them to adjust to sleeping soundly- they usually flew from the bed wide awake at the smallest, insignificant noise that reached their ears. They were still on alert mode, although Abby was beginning to sleep more deeply, Connor was still having some difficulties sleeping through the night.

The sound of Jess's bedroom door shutting caused them to breathe a sigh of relief that the call had been brief.

"Maybe Becker's acting like an arse." She offered in way of explanation.

Connor shook his head, "He wouldn't upset Jess just for the sake of it. He's one of those men who has to have a purpose to everything he does."

"He clearly has feelings for her, though…"

"How can you tell?" He propped himself up on an elbow, leaning over his lover with a questioning expression adorning his face.

She raised an eyebrow back at him, "Haven't you seen the way he looks at her? His eyes linger on her longer than anyone else. Plus he went out of his way to get her that chocolate bar. I'm telling you, for the past year they've probably been doing some pretty fine dancing about of one another. It's like neither of them have the guts to tell the other."

Silence engulfed them for a moment, and then Connor opened his mouth, "You know, Becker could do with a good screw, he needs to lighten up."

Abby's eyes simply narrowed in a mixture of disbelief and disgust, before she rolled over, her back to him.

"Goodnight Connor."

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Reviews favoured and questions welcome!

GPR


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry I haven't updated inages, but life's been crazy - my boyfriend of 3 years proposed and I got into my firm uni to do English Literature :) So here it is:

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The morning had been going smoothly so far, no anomalies as of yet and the paperwork was unpredictably minimal. It was a day that Becker found he had little in the way of work to do; so far he'd finished writing up some of the forms and reports- mandatory for all personnel to fill in after the appearance of an anomaly- and was doing necessary maintenance checks on the EMDs.

As he sat in the armoury, fiddling with a particularly awkward EMD that didn't really want to be put back together, his mind wondered onto thoughts of Jess. Her voice on the phone last night hadn't exactly filled him with confidence, she was worse than angry with him- she was fed up and frustrated. He could have handled the anger, the rage… but he knew he couldn't handle the bitter resentment she'd been showing him all morning. Her eyes glossed over him as though he wasn't there, or was at least something so meagrely interesting she simply didn't have the time or patience to admire him for the briefest of seconds. Her words her blunt and to the point, she didn't say anything more than she needed to, and her entire posture was stiff and tense in his presence.

Connor had noticed, Becker mused, and wondered if calling the other night was really the best idea. Probably not, but he'd been desperate to talk to Jess; it was only when she'd picked up the phone and told him it wasn't the time that he'd actually realised she wanted little to do with him.

_Idiot_, he mentally cursed. It was going to take more than a chocolate bar to get him back in her good books, but it was somewhere to start. Laying the gun down with a sigh, he headed over to the locker rooms, intent to make it up to her, and retrieved the specially bought chocolate bar from his locker.

Jess deliberately ignored him as he approached the ADD, typing away furiously at one of her reports, back rigid.

Becker leant over ever so carefully, closer than he would usually do, and laid a new bar of the chocolate he'd originally bought for the first time beside the keyboard. They were perfectly alone, and as he watched her detached exterior falter momentarily as she eyed the chocolate, fingers hesitating over the keys, he leaned in closer, tenderly sweeping a loose ringlet of hair as his lips brushed the rim of her ear.

"Sorry."

He pulled away before she could even formulate a reply, scared it would somehow backfire and cause an open argument for all the ARC employees to witness.

As Becker turned to leave the operations room, Jess swung around in her chair, watching his retreating figure momentarily, before she tore her eyes away and attempted to carry on with her work. His simple gesture of a chocolate bar had surprised her greatly, and for a moment she had been tempted to break her vow of silence, until her brain reminded her that it was _just a chocolate bar_. It didn't necessarily mean he was going to sweep her off her feet.

Regardless, she felt that she should thank him, however moronic he had been, maybe even accept his apology and hope that they could just move on from what had happened. Perhaps things could get back to normal. Even though that was wishful thinking, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

X

Still unsure of what to do with himself, Becker headed towards the locker rooms in search of coffee, or tea, he wasn't particularly fussed, as long as he had something to busy himself with.

Pushing the door open, he came face to face with Connor, the door knocking his hand and the cup of tea he held.

"Oh crap!" Connor cried, jumping backwards as the hot liquid, along with the mug, plummeted to the floor.

"God, Connor, I'm sorry... I didn't see you there." Reaching down to pick up the pieces of mug, Becker felt the embarrassment flood him, flushing his cheeks red.

"Don't worry mate, my fault."

Becker doubted it was his fault at all, but was too shocked to even argue, "I'll uh... get a cloth."

Whilst wiping up the mess they'd caused between them, Connor, though somewhat hesitantly, broke the silence, "So, um, did you get to speak to Jess in the end? I did say you called but she got in really late-"

"No, I uh... briefly spoke to her, but you know... it was kinda late."

"Uhuh..." he paused, "She um, she did seem sorta pissed when she got in..."

Becker stopped, the sopping tea towel dripping onto the floor as he peered over at his colleague. For a moment, he deliberated confiding in him – he never did anything of the short – but with Jess not speaking to him, he was beginning to feel the need for a friend.

"Yeah... I think I upset her quite a bit."

Connor stopped mopping; surprised Becker was opening up, and caught his gaze, "You-"

"I upset her..." he sighed, "I didn't mean to. I just..."

Connor patted his shoulder, "It's alright mate… I'm sure she'll get over it."

"That's just it. I've never seen her so pissed, I don't know if she's the forgiving type."

"Well, you couldn't have done anything seriously wrong, could ya?"

Walking over and wringing the towel out in the sink, Becker struggled to find the words, "Well… I um…I've had…"

"What?"

Even with his back to the young man, he found it hard to admit out loud, "I have feelings for her… but I didn't want to… have anything happen between us… but something did and… I took it back."

"Wait," Connor said, the shock evident in his voice, "You took what back?"

"Never mind." He said, throwing the towel down on the draining board and walking out.

Becker really hated the fact he had a temper that could easily flare – it wasn't fair to open up and then take his anger out on Connor when, in reality, he was furious with himself.

He would make it up to her, he vowed, no matter how much he had to beg.

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Review, review, review!

I love the little ping my inbox makes when I get them ;)

GPR


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